


White Emulsion

by england_is_mine



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Extremely Mild Violence, Hot Tub Sex, I never seem to post regularly, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, My stories seem to be very short, Rambling, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 12:16:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21446083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/england_is_mine/pseuds/england_is_mine
Summary: Alex reflects on past times in an open letter a couple of days after he falls apart at Miles’ doorstep. Things progress. [UPDATED]
Relationships: Miles Kane/Alex Turner
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	1. You sold your heart,

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, the first chapter started out as separate from all the others, and you can view it like that if you want. This story is basically my interpretation of how the boys would get together if they would. It’s non-chronological and shifts between duel and one person narrative so may be a bit confusing lmao. 
> 
> This is a work of fiction. Although resemblance to real people is implied, any actions they depict are not real. Their privacy must be respected at all times.

The way he makes me feel, I can’t explain. 

Very well, anyway. But I’ll try, ‘cause writing’s always made me feel better, more in tune with reality, me feelings. Black and white, or in song, just makes it more _ real. _ Albeit scary. But anyway, it- it feels euphoric. For a moment I’m not Alex, almost. Someone else, someone happier, freer. He makes me forget, just for a second. I can’t even begin to piece together a sentence about how _ it _ feels, when he’s, wait for it, inside of me. That is strange to type. But it really is- it feels so unbelievably good, though it hurts at first sometimes. The first time were almost torture, although I would never tell him, I couldn’t walk for a week afterwards without questions. _ Banged me leg, _I’d say. If only they knew.

If it hurt so much, why did you carry on? One may ask- it were the look on his face, the noises he made. The way that made me feel- I’ve never felt like this about, well, anyone. It did get better, much better. _ You’ll get used to it _ , he said, _ I promise. _God, I did. It feels like, not all those cliches, not butterflies, fireworks. I feel dizzy, I feel like I die and come back. Like the whole world flashes white or black and then suddenly I’m breathless in his arms, him too. I hope he feels the same. To believe that I weren’t even aware I was capable of feeling such things before seems a terrifying waste. But it’s okay now, and I can’t get enough, which is awfully vulgar of me but the truth. 

It’s not an explosion, rather an intense feeling of satisfaction all in one go. Of relief. And the build up, dear God. My favourite is probably when I'm on top of him or when my legs are wrapped around his waist in some form or another. I can't even look at him for fear of being overwhelmed. And when I do, it's all in slow motion, always. The feeling, the pressure, the things it does to me are unholy. His strong hands gripping me in places, I love that too. I love being his, more than anything, and I don’t know what it is, or why, psychologically, I feel that. To just have someone do it all for you, and to enjoy it so much, is so much fun. 

I realise all this in a second; it flashes white before my eyes like a wave that has been waiting to crash my whole life. I realise it when, after this euphoria, we face each other on our sides wrapped up in messy white sheets, and I look into his eyes and I see it. I see how he makes me feel. He’s talking but I’m not listening, I nod and smile, drownin’ in hazel and the wave. It spills and spills and I try to plug it by cutting him off with my lips, my thighs next on either side of his hips. _ Shut up, _ I say, _ I need you, I need you again. _

_I’m doing this because I can’t stand the thought that I might be in love with you, _ is what I wish I could say. _ I’m cutting you off and we do this all night because I’m hiding from words, I want you to hurt me, make me feel so good that I don’t feel anything else for a moment at all. God, and I want you. So much that it hurts. _

And so every mornin,’ I push you away. Sometimes I’ll stop halfway through like now and realise what I’m doing, and leave. I slam the door, and I know how much I hurt you. I’m so sorry, the words won’t come right now, but I promise they will.

_ You’re an arsehole Alex I know Why do you do this to me I don’t know I need you to answer me Alex I can’t Why not Because I just can’t Miles WHY NOT BECAUSE I CAN’T NO MILES PLEASE DON’T BABY OW DON’T CALL ME THAT WHAT CALL ME YOUR BABY WHEN IT’S NOT TRUE PLEASE STOP IT OW YOU’RE HURTING ME STOP CRYING MILES PLEASE LET ME GO- _

I deserved it- I never should have complained. Quite honestly I would have let you beat me to death, if that’s what you wanted. I can imagine it quite well, the blood. I would let you, because it was better than being gay. I would still let you, because I can never forgive myself. 

Phew. I hope you never have to read that. But now, as I look at you sleeping, it was all worth it. The sheets are still tangled, but there’s yellow sunlight plastered upon them, upon your back. I run a hand through your hair. I hug a coffee mug and then type, pretend to be blissfully happy for now. I’m in so much pain, Miles. So much. 

I’m sure you can tell, when almost every time I look at you I burst into tears from a combination of guilt and happiness- I can feel it coming on right now, so I’ll wrap it up. I love you, but you have to give me time. I wish I could’ve just said this before, but I’m ready now. I know I’m the most annoying person you’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing, but I’m ready if you are. 

I know you are- you’ve been ready all your life. 

  
  
  
  


  
  
  



	2. On my doorstep,

I think about Lizzie while I lean on the railings of this bridge, looking down to the water and the large, white, picturesque houses on either side. I’m actually quite high up. Sweet girl, her and Miles could’ve made a go of it, I think, when they wrote Loaded. Then her song pops into my brain.

_Boy you’re so dope, your love is deadly_

_Tell me life is beautiful, they all think I have it all_

_I have nothing without you_

_All my dreams and all the lights mean_

_Nothing without you _

Ouch. I think, it’s like the words were made for me, made to snap me out of this trance. I look down at the dog and sigh in jealousy. We’ve all thought it- how simple it would be to just be an animal instead. We’re so damn complicated. 

_Your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine_

_But I wish I was dead_

Oh God, I shake my head, but the thought crosses my mind. I think about tying the dog up to the railings and jumping, and then it would all be over. I wouldn’t scream, I’d go splat, and my brain would turn off, finally. No, I can’t do that. I’ve had enough. I’m leaving this damn place. 

__________________________

  
  


I march to the house and tie him up outside. “Sorreh little buddeh,” I pet him goodbye. _Louise’ll be good to you, _I think. _Such a shame I have to let you go. _I realise, that I seem to care more about the dog than her. I shake the thought and spin on my heel to leave, march down to the train station on a mission. I thank God that my wallet is on me. There’s a part of me that wills me to go back, turn around. Stop myself from this nonsense. Somehow, I can’t. My feet keep going despite their reluctance, and drag me to the tickets and the train. 

I sink into the uncomfortable seat and think deeply about what the hell it is I’m going to do. I understand then, that I can’t get on a plane and expect Miles to forgive me if I haven’t broken up with her- he never will. He’d tell me to go home, hit me. So I pull out the phone. I can’t face telling her with my voice, so I send a text. _Coward. _I think. _Hypocrite. _It doesn’t stop me. 

_I’m so sorry Louise. I can’t do this no more. I’m going to London, and I won’t be coming back. I’m an arsehole, you’ve every right to wanna kill me, but I just can’t go on. _

_All the best, Al. _

I sigh. In an instant impulse, I draw back the little sliding window towards the roof of the carriage and throw my phone out. It was for the best, I couldn’t face all the miscalls and the texts. If it’s not there, it can’t hurt you, and I can’t hurt her anymore than I already have, I think. The words _Liar, cheat, hypocrite, coward, _flash across my mind. 

__________________________

  
  


_Don’t say you need me when_

_You leave and you leave again_

_I’m stronger than all my men_

_Except for you_

_Jesus Christ, why’s this on? Shuffle is never kind to me. _I think to myself as I lie in bed on a Sunday afternoon. I’d taken a break- my guitar and notebook next to me, crossings out everywhere. I close my eyes and listen closer to her voice. I could turn it off, but it’s hard to. Soon, guitars, drums and white noise overpower Lizzie’s angelic voice and she remains a constant in the background amidst it all. Part of me doesn’t want it to end, and it reminds me of when me and Al covered Moonage Daydream, the guitars at the end, how they’d overpower everything and consume us both. The love of that sound, it’s how we met.

I shake it off and get up to stop the playlist once it’s over, and stand wide-eyed and hand-on-hip, staring at the guitar. It’s a month until release, and I’m stuck on the last song. Typical, it seems. The one person I go to for help, I can’t. God, Miles. Stop it, this is all okay. Everything’s going swimmingly on your own. _And yet you’re single. Can’t move on. _Stop it, stop it, Alex. Get out of my head.

I drag my hands up to my face and through my hair. Let’s go the gym.

I’ve been doing this a lot lately. Every time thoughts of him flood into my mind, I hit the gym. Or rather, it hits me. It helps ease the pain for the day, but never at night. God, it always comes back at night, doesn’t it? The empty bed, empty arms. Fill the space with others, alcohol, music, it’s never the same. I can’t stand the silence, sometimes. Fall asleep with the TV on. Fill the gap. 

“Back so soon?” 

“None of that, Stuart. Hit me,” I say, throwing my bag to the floor, pumped with a newfound rage as my fists raise. Let’s just say that I’ve always been quick to anger.

“Ooo, he’s feeling feisty today. Ready to go, champ?”

“Let’s go,” I breathe. “No playing around,” I warn. We begin.

Stuart is quick on his feet, and despite my admission of readiness I get the first blow. 

“Come on, Miles. Whatever’s got you riled, it can’t be that bad,” he swiftly dodges my punch and I try again. _He’s probably right, how can a Lana Del Rey song get you so worked up? _My mouth forms an ‘O’ and I breathe quickly, channel your emotions and all that. 

Strike one. _For kissing him._

Strike two. _For carrying on with him._

Strike three. _For letting him in. _

Strike four. _For when he broke your heart._

Strike five. _For all the times he comes back._

“Good, Miles! Apparently I was wrong, you can dish it like you take it,” he states, and we move around the floor like animals fighting in a jungle. His comments rile me more, and I carry on. 

_For the times that he makes you look the fool._

_For times when you think of him at night._

_For when he never replies. _

_For right now. _

Over, and over again. “Alright Miles, you’re hurting me now, lad,” he says something along those lines. I don’t really hear him, because I carry on and on, punching despite the numbness and redness in my knuckles, the ache in my arms. Then suddenly he’s hitting me back, calling my name to stop, then we’re really fighting, and my nose starts to bleed, then my head, then my hair is being pulled, and then I’m on the floor sobbing over Alex like a teenage girl. Stuart, and I assume some others are staring, but the emotions overcome me, until I realise that I’m crying on the floor of a men’s gym and I sniff myself into an awkward silence. “Come on man, let’s get you a drink.” He offers his arm, confused. I shake my head and it takes all that I am to stand, grab my bag and leave, head spinning. 

When I get in, I collapse on the sofa, and fall straight to sleep. 

__________________________

  
  


_1:37AM_

The pounding in my head and sting from my face brings me to a slow and painful start. My ears ring slightly, but it passes. I try to leave little time to reflect on the day’s events as I bring myself to sit up and think. Fuck, 10 miscalls and 4 texts from Stuart. He must be so confused, but I can’t bring my eyes to focus on the thin black marks on a small display. So the phone goes away. _Paracetamol, and then shower. _

The hot water and The Beatles give me much to reflect on. What is it, hot showers relax the muscles, and cold ones wake them up? Something like that. I sigh deeply and flinch as the wound on my head comes into contact with the heat. I cannot keep doing this, I think. I suppose today was an eye opener, though ironically enough I can hardly see out of one. I’m glad I let it all out, and I realise that I feel much better for it. He’s just a boy, for fuck sake. I’m not 14 anymore. 

And so I move on again. Perhaps it will be like this for a while, the pain. The questions are endless in my head, a stone lodged in my brain that I can’t ever get around to removing. There’s too many, and I can’t answer them right now. But that’s okay, I tell myself. I’m not going back there anytime soon, and for now, it stays lodged in my mind, with a safe barrier around it. 

My head hurts, and I make the shower cooler to stop the dizziness. I wash my hair, and then am halfway through my body when I hear an almost… screaming. Or shouting, and pounding. Jesus Christ, I thought someone was dying. As much effort as it takes, I am quick to turn off the shower, grab a towel and turn off the music. That was when I realised that it was Alex, my name on his tongue, and I felt this stone of mine release itself down my throat and get wedged in between my ribs. He’s shouting and shouting, and it gets annoying once I notice he isn’t stopping anytime soon, so I march up there and yank open the door. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t you realise I’ve got neighbours?” I stand, mouth hanging open, bewildered by his audacity. Whatever my feelings, he’s got no right to come swanning over here, drunk out of his mind looking for a quick fuck when I’ve had the day from hell. 

But that was when he looked at me dead in the eye, pupils a perfectly normal size, and tears began to form, and silently spill down his face. “Get inside,” I say, with a similar amount of frustration. “And sit down,”

I close the door and stand there, soaking wet and freezing, hand on the door handle. “What do you want?” I pry.

“Please don’t be mad,” he gets out. It’s difficult not to comfort him. I hardly ever see him cry, and it reminds me so vividly of when he was much younger, much less afraid. He takes a frustrating amount of time to reply as usual, so I shake my head and scoff. 

“Am gettin’ some clothes on.” I proclaim and leave him to think, and to give myself time to calm down. He left me no time to decide how to feel when he so dauntlessly showed up with months of silence. I could’ve been dead for all he cared, and yet here I am, welcoming him in without a thought. I guess he’s not just some boy.

I throw something comfortable on and drag my hands through my hair, and stare at the mirror. The swelling around my eye has gone down. Hm.

The urge to hold him and see him overwhelms me, so I go back in and pray he hasn’t left. I find a much worse sight- he’s in absolute pieces with tears, and I find myself frozen in place, willing myself to stand still at the sight before me. 

“Am sorreh Miles, am strugglin’ a bit,” he says, wiping his eyes. I sigh and sit next to him. “Wha ‘appended to yer face,” he asks. He looks up then, and I notice that I’ve never seen him in a state like it, and it makes me ache all over. 

“Gym,” I reply blandly, and wait for what seems to be eternity. Eventually, he musters up the courage. 

“I dunno how to say it, cause it’ll never be right, but… I- I can’t live without ya.” He confesses, dragging a hand over and over across his forehead and through his hair. And for once, in what seems like forever, I’m proud of him, and his vulnerability. I know it takes a lot for him. I wait, in the hopes for more. 

“And- and I left her, in Paris… with the dog. And- and I dunno what to say cause, cause you’re always so good with words, but,” his voice begins to crack, and it almost sets me off. When he gets to “I’m so sorry,” in another heap of tears and crying, I let him into my arms again, and I just nod and tell him that I know, I know he is. I stroke his hair again, I let him cry and cry into me all he likes. I begin to wonder if I’m stupid, but this is new. He just doesn’t _do _this. So I stare into space, holding back my own tears, and we sit in silence for a good ten minutes to let out silent words. The things we meant to say but never did, hang in the air like we can read each other’s minds. 

“Miles,” he murmurs, head on my chest, after a while.

“Hm,” 

“And I love you,” he tells me, and although I do too, I can’t respond. The words feel foreign on him, disingenuous. But luckily, he goes on. “So, so much. And I know that- that nuffin’ I can say will ever make it better, ever, but I hope you can forgive me,” he proposes. I truly am bewildered by his maturity. 

I’m not ready to reply. Which is strange, because I’ve dreamt about this day, and I thought I would be ready to jump right back into his arms, we’d have make up sex and everything would be amazing. But real life isn’t like that, so I do something else; I stand up. 

“Come on then,” I offer my hand. 

“Wha- what are we doin,” he asks, but takes my hand.

“We’re goin to sleep,” I say, pulling him up. We stand looking into each other’s eyes for a moment, and for once, I can see him, the real him. He simply nods, and I take him to a place he knows all too well. He doesn’t undress, and once he slides in next to me, we don’t say a single word until what I know will be tomorrow morning. 

I stare up into a black emulsion, and hold him tight, petrified he will leave. I know my answer will depend upon whether or not he’s next to me in the morning, so this is a good enough test, I figure. I close my eyes, press my lips against his head, careful not to kiss him, as trust takes time. It isn’t long before I fall into a vast, deep sleep. 


	3. But we misplaced it somewhere.

Miles never thought he’d feel anxious waking up next to Alex- in fact it’s the last thing he thought he’d feel. He supposes he should see this is a good sign- Alex is still clinging to him, unmoved- but as the scorching Californian sun pours in, he can’t help but replay last night's events in his head, the tears, the exhaustion. It seems in stark contrast to how at peace they are now.

Miles checks his phone -9:53- and rolls his eyes. The scar on his forehead stings, and he’s drenched in sweat from the heat of the sun and Alex’s fully clothed body and the duvet snug around him. In a sudden need to move, he sits up, pulling Al up with him. “Come on, darlin,’ you’re roasting,” Miles shakes him awake. 

“Huh? Lou- Miles,” Alex panics, confused, thinking for a moment that everything’s just a bad dream. 

“It’s me, remember?” Miles reminds him, trying to refrain from sarcasm, now standing up. Alex only sits up in bed and stares at him, hair sticking to his forehead. “You gonna get dressed, then?” He says, and he acknowledges to himself that he can’t help the bitterness in the words that escape him. Alex simply nods, before slowly moving out of bed. Miles curses himself as he leaves the room. 

As he angrily shoves on a dressing gown and goes to make coffee and breakfast, he has to pause for a moment to calm himself down. He can’t quite understand why he’s almost shaking with rage and anxiety over something he’s wanted for so long. Thoughts of Alex, and the heat, make his head spin, and he’s battling an inner monologue of either wanting to slap the man for his audacity or break down entirely in his arms. What he longs for most is stability, and the lack thereof sends him into a panic attack, because he knows he can’t do this to himself again, he knows the emotional consequences of Alex leaving once more and quite frankly he can’t take it. 

He sinks down to the floor of the kitchen and breathes heavily- and within moments he’s shaking and crying uncontrollably. He thanks God when he hears the shower being turned on- seeing the man in question might’ve just been the last straw. 

He reminds himself to breathe properly, and after a couple of minutes the moment is over, and he’s left panting for air with goosebumps forming on his arms. 

He sits for what feels like an eternity before forcing himself to crawl back up and down two glasses of water he pours himself from the tap, having read somewhere that that’s what you’re meant to do if you have an attack. He’d read up on it, for Alex. “Jesus,” he breathes after the second glass, not wanting to experience that ever again. 

He abandons breakfast for an apple, much favouring to sit with his feet dipped in the pool to relax. Eventually, Alex taps on the sliding door to signify his presence, along with a half-smile. “Hi,” he manages, voice low. 

“Hi,” Miles smiles too, but genuine, and full. “C’mere,” he reaches out his arm to signify that Alex should join him. He’s wearing a pair of Miles’ shorts and a vest. He sits down next to him, feet piercing into water, and allows Miles to wrap an arm around his waist so Alex’s head can rest on his shoulder. “M’ sorry for snappin’ at ya love,” he apologises, and feels Alex shake his head. 

“It’s okay,” he replies. “I were expectin’ it,” he inhales, taking the fresh air in. Miles notes how cinematic the whole thing feels, the pool, the birds, how the water shimmers in the sun. 

“I need time,” Miles admits suddenly, to which Alex nods. 

“Understandable,” he agrees. “If there’s anythin’ I can do,” 

“Yeah,” Miles cuts him off, and lets his arm fall. They look at each other. “I need y’ to be honest with me, always. I need y’ to tell me the truth,” he begins, and resettles his hand to play with Alex’s hair instead. Alex nods and hums, expecting more.

“So every question I ask you, I want you to be straight with me, do you understand? Otherwise this won’t work.” He continues, and Alex nods again. “Are you an’ Louise over?” He begins, removing his hand from Alex’s hair. 

“Yeah,” Alex nods. “I threw me phone out the window on the train, too- I mean- once I told her,” 

“Wha?” Miles senses Alex’s nerves. 

“I d- I- I did it over text. I couldn’t speak to her, Miles,” Miles, impressed with his honesty, saves his judgement. 

“Alright. Do you want a relationship with me?” He asks, suddenly wishing he had a cigarette. It takes Alex a few seconds, but he nods. 

A “You’re sure about that?” Receives a nod again. Alex leans in, indicating that he wants to be held, and Miles complies. 

“I- I dunno how to word that one, Miles, to be honest wif ya. I’ve beaten myself up about it for so long that it- it’s exhausting. To think about, I mean. But yeah- I- I’m ready to. I just- I think I need time too, if I’m honest. I’m not ready for anyone to know, just yet.” He looks up desperately, desperate for approval. 

“Thank you,” is all Miles says, brushing hair behind Alex’s ear, and it’s all he’s wanted for the past four plus years, is that question answered. “But how can I trust you?” He puts forward.

“Because ‘am gay,” Alex replies without missing a beat, like it’s been simmering for years, and tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he says it, his lips pursing together. Miles stares at him with furrowed eyebrows, and wants to cry too. He says nothing, but instead immediately embraces him and squeezes him hard. Alex claws at the fabric on his silk dressing gown, and they both just shut their eyes. “Nobody knows,” Alex whispers.

“Mmhm,” Miles strokes his hair, as if he already knew. “I’m so proud,” he pulls away, and Alex laughs, wiping his eyes. “What?” Miles beams.

“Nuffink,” Alex is beaming too. “I just never thought I’d say it,” he laughs. “I feel so much better,” he giggles, and it fills Miles with a joy he’s never felt before. “Fuck! I need to tell everyone!” He half-jokes.

“Alright, slow down, Elton John.” Miles teases, and places an arm around his waist. Alex rolls his eyes, and lets himself be held again. 

Alex begins to think that maybe, just maybe, he can begin the process of letting go of his old self. 

*

Later that night, the television becomes dull enough to be replaced with a small make out session in bed. It starts with some light neck kissing from Alex, and turns into small passionate kisses to cupping each other’s faces and struggling for air. Just before it gets too heated, Alex is overcome with a wave of anxiety and stops before it goes too far. “Mm, I’m not sure if am- ready,” he pants, clutching onto Miles’ t-shirt. Miles nods. 

“S’ alright, love. I’m not gonna force you to do anything,” he smiles, and they revert back to Alex’s head on Miles’ chest. 

“M’ Sorreh. I do want to. Am just scared that I’ll get, like, overwhelmed, an’ emotional,” 

“Don’t apologise, darlin,’” Miles reminds him, turning the TV off. They settle down, then, murmuring good night’s with soft kisses in the comfort and warmth of each other.

Wounds don’t heal that quickly, however, and both men know this. They know it in the silence that morning and night brings, whenever they look at each other and pause for words. A look is shared, one that says  _ I know you’re hurting, and I cannot help. I need to talk endlessly with you, about the mistakes I’ve made, the guilt I feel, and how we can move on from this, but I don’t know where, or how, to begin.  _


	4. You tell me don’t worry; I’ll get it back in instalments from the weight of your love.

Alex’s pen taps at his notepad as he sits by the pool. Lost in thought, the man shifts his guitar to sit upright in the chair, crossing out some scribbled down words. In reality, he was going nowhere, with no aim. It just passes the time, sitting here plucking random chords or writing down a word or two every so often. He sighs, realising this. 

It had been like this for a month now, and after any attempt to make things better by trying to show affection, Alex found himself miles away from Miles, despite being right next to him. It’s just too much, Alex thinks, the weight of his damage. There’s too many things to say to him and yet the words won't come. And yes, they still hadn’t had sex yet, which he finds is probably a factor.  _ Maybe I’m frustrated, maybe I’m scared. Maybe I don’t love him without sex. Maybe he doesn’t love anymore. Damn it, shut up. Don’t be stupid.  _

It’s then when he hears the door go- Miles returning from the gym. Every day these past few weeks, for at least two hours or more. Alex wonders what his motives are, is he trying to keep in shape? Or trying to get away? Only Miles knows this, and Alex will never ask. He is quite comforted in not knowing. Alex is quick to turn his head, to see the freshly-showered man appear in the living room, carrying his bags. Miles then looks out to the garden to see Alex there, and smiles. Alex smiles back, and it’s a cheeky smile on both of their behalves. A knowing one. 

The younger dumps his bags on the sofa and pokes half of his body around the sliding glass door. “Hiya love,” he beams, evidently happy. 

“Hi,” Alex smiles, Miles’ grin contagious. His direct eye contact unconsciously pulls Miles closer to him, close enough to then kiss his head and push his hair back. “Someone’s in a good mood,” Miles chuckles in response and rolls his eyes, resting his hands on his hips. “Go on then, why so chirpy?” Alex presses.

“No reason. Good session. And ‘ave got a gorgeous man waiting at home for me,” he pulls up a chair and sits. Alex only laughs, and it’s his turn to eye roll. 

“You’re writing?” Miles asks, pulling out a cigarette.

“No, not really. Just bored. Could be useful later,” he returns, and Miles nods. Smoke contaminates the air as he sits back. 

“Listen love, ‘ave been thinkin,” he begins, and Alex knots his eyebrows together, staring at him. “Why don’t we go on holiday?” Alex relaxes, and smiles slightly. “I mean, I can clear my schedule, and I can tell you’re not exactly happy here…” he goes on, referring to the countless times in which he’s returned home or walked in to find Alex crying, or times when he just won’t get out of bed, leave the house, or even eat. “An’ I think that it’ll be really good for us to recharge, y’know?” He finishes, and Alex can’t believe he didn’t think of the idea himself. Alex nods enthusiastically and hums. 

“Tha’ sounds good,” 

“Any ideas?” Miles asks, taking in another drag of smoke. Alex takes a moment to think.

“Greece,” he blurts out suddenly, eyes wide.

“Oh yeah?” Miles smirks, and Alex nods furiously, smile emerging. 

“I’ve always wanted to go,” he admits. “We should go somewhere really secluded,” he continues, bursting with possibilities. 

“Alright then love. I’ll go and look at flights,” he stubs his cigarette out on the near ashtray and gets up.

“Mi,” Alex reaches for him.

“Hm?”

“I love ya,” he smiles, and Miles kisses him briefly but filled with passion, smiling into him. 

“I love ya too, silly,” he messes his hair up, and with that, he’s gone. 

*

“I’m sitting by the window,” Alex proclaims as they’re stood in the queue to board the plane, as he always does. He’s jittery and everywhere all at once, not being able to stay still and focus for a minute. As he says it, he’s glancing out the window to look at the plane, but is now constantly looking behind him and to the side of him. Miles giggles.

“As always, my love,” he says, putting his arm around Alex’s waist. He’s quick to realise his mistake, as Alex slaps him away. “Just chill out, will ya? Who’re you even lookin’ for?” Miles presses, knowing that Alex is always like this, filled with nervous-excitement before being in the air. 

“No one. Am just excited,” he beams, looking at Miles now. Miles tuts, and soon they’re on the plane, Alex in the window seat as usual, grinning like a child when the plane takes off. “I know it’s not exactly environmentally friendly anymore, this flying thing. But I love it,” he smiles, and Miles just rolls his eyes at the inner childlike nature Alex has. 

After a gruelling 14 hour flight from LAX to Santorini with one stop, they finally arrived just as the sun began to set. They stood and sighed simultaneously, surrounded by their luggage in a beautiful room. With a large balcony, bed with inviting white sheets, and hot tub that looked out across to the ocean and an orange sky, the boys embraced each other in the success of making it there in one piece. There was champagne and fresh fruit waiting for them, and Alex felt that it was just like a dream. “God Mi… it’s beautiful. You chose well,” he compliments Miles as he clings on to his chest. 

“Am not just a pretty face,” he jokes, before kissing Alex’s forehead. “What’d you wanna do? Drinks at the bar? Look around?” Alex shakes his head for no.

“We should stay here… break in the hot tub,” he teases, pulling Miles by both hands towards the balcony, keeping eye contact at all times. 

“Is that so?” Miles plays along, before cupping Alex’s jaw and pulling him into a heated kiss that Alex moans into. Miles widens his eyes, and almost twitches at the sound.

“Haven’t heard that in a while,” he grins as he has Alex pressed up against the glass that leads to the balcony. 

“God, I want y’ Mi,” he whispers suddenly in what feels like an intimate, heartfelt confession with puppy dog eyes. Miles swears he could drown in that sea of deep brown, and in this light it’s hard to make out where the blackness of his pupil ends and the brown begins. Perhaps it is a confession, he thinks, having tried to suppress it for so long, being too caught up in emotion.

“Mmm,” Miles hums, and he notices how the sunset slices through the room when Alex moves out of the way. “In there?” He notions to the water, and Alex nods. “God, yer naughty sometimes Al,” Miles grins. “Okay, but you’re cleaning up the mess.” He smiles and Alex grins. 

Their balcony is isolated so that no one can see them. As Miles undresses and steps in, Alex brings over the fruit and champagne before undressing himself. 

“Kinda glad we didn’t go downstairs now,” Miles smirks as Alex’s naked body steps into the water, soon flush against Miles’ muscular chest. Alex only hums and leaves light kisses to his shoulder and chest, unbearably turned on from all the pent up sexual tension. Despite it bordering on nighttime, the air remains warm and the heat of the bubbling water doesn’t help their temperature. Sweat soon makes Alex’s hair stick to his forehead slightly, and it glistens on Miles’ brow bone and chest.

“Drink?” Alex asks, but reaches for it anyway. The cool alcohol is refreshing on their tongues, and Alex soon starts feeding Miles grapes and slices of mango, and eventually begins licking the sweet taste off of Miles’ lips as he straddles him. 

“Mm,” Miles groans, bucking up slightly for more friction. Alex is compliant, and soon starts grinding into him. Alex begins to feel other-worldly, out of his own body, like he’s not controlling it but rather some sex-obsessed madman. The kisses between the pair of them deepen, and in the end they’re struggling for breath. “I’ve missed you,” Miles admits, not sounding like himself. Alex shakes his head and pushes a finger to his lips.

“Shh, not now.” He whispers, in an attempt to stop Miles from making him burst into tears. “Just love me,”

“I will,” Miles smiles.

Alex moves to Miles’ neck, lips swollen from kissing. It doesn’t stop him, as he lathers up Miles’ skin with his saliva. Miles’ hand glides up Alex’s back, and with it the warm water. Whereas Alex’s hand slides in between them, and makes contact with how painfully hard they are for the first time. He makes a fist around them both, and moves his hand slowly, moans escaping them both so quickly having waited for so long. Miles’ hand grips at Alex’s supple waist, nails digging in. Alex’s hand gets much quicker, and in combination with the warm water Miles feels as if it’s too much. 

“Babe,” he stops him in a gasp. Alex nods simply, understanding, and maneuvers himself to line up with Miles.

“I love you,” he blurts out, a hand on Miles’ shoulder. In any other circumstance Miles would have laughed, but it seems overwhelmingly sincere and Miles knows that Alex wouldn’t appreciate it. It’s odd, getting used to those syllables on Alex’s tongue, he feels. A good odd.

“I love you too,” he reciprocates, giving Alex the O.K. He sinks down onto him, screwing his eyes shut.

“Ah,” he gasps, breathing deeply, having almost forgotten the feeling. He opens his eyes to see Miles gawping at him lovingly, mouth slightly agape, hands resting lightly his hips. He is slow to adjust, and moans through it in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“That’s it baby, good boy,” Miles praises, to which Alex moans out louder to. He begins to softly grind against Miles, his hips moving back and forth gently and eyes closed. “That’s it,” Miles repeats, and Alex pauses to take a breath. “You okay baby,” Miles whispers, and Alex nods.

“It’s jus’ been awhile,” Alex breathes quickly, before gripping onto Miles’ sides. 

“At your own pace, love,” Miles reminds him. He begins to bounce softly, and it sends Miles crazy just watching him. “Oh God, Alex,” he moans, as he beholds the sight in front of him. Alex, sweaty and drunk in love, eyes filled with lust, moves up and down on his cock like it’s his job. And God, it feels good. Fuck the sunset, Miles thinks, regarding this as the best view he’ll ever get. He moves his wet hands up to feel the man’s chest and play with his nipples, which makes Alex groan out. 

“Mmm,” Alex whines, as he gets increasingly faster and things get more passionate and intense by the second. Their skin slaps together and the water spills over the edge slightly, whirling around them. “Ahh,” he groans, revelling in the feeling as he shuts his eyes and pushes his hair back. Miles breathes heavily and is suddenly desperate for more. “Fuck me,” Alex begs, feeling the same. 

Miles pulls Alex’s neck towards him so that his forehead meets Miles’ shoulder, and then wraps his arms tightly around Alex’s small waist. Alex’s back arches, giving Miles more freedom to fuck him. Alex makes a strangled moan when he does, biting into his lover’s shoulder. Miles groans as their chests collide, pounding into Alex so hard the boy can’t help but make obscene noises down his ear and pant heavily. He soon begins to whine and let out random strings of slurs and noises he never even thought he’d make, Miles groaning along with him at the hot and tight feeling of Alex around him again. Alex sits up ever so slightly and presses his forehead against Miles’, bringing wet hands to a dry face to kiss him messily. They breathe into each other, Alex gasping and writhing as Miles moves his hands to grip onto Alex’s hips to guide him up and down his cock. He pulls out slowly, before slamming back into Alex all at once, making the man above him crazy. He does this a couple of times before slowly fucking him again prior to picking up the pace. Alex rests his arms on Miles’ shoulders, hair falling in his face. He helps Miles by bouncing on him, and combined with Miles’ upwards force Alex swears he’s in Heaven. This is confirmed when Miles hits at just the right angle.

“Fuck! Miles, there, there! Harder! Fuck!” Alex almost screams, becoming painfully aware of his throbbing erection slapping between both of their chests. He hastily goes to grab at himself, tugging fast and rough. “Babeh, I’m gonna- so close,” he murmurs lowly in between breaths, head in Miles’ neck now. The prospect brings Miles to the edge too, and soon Alex is coming hard with a cry of Miles’ name. The sound and the sight sends Miles crazy, who fucks Alex into overstimulation and comes with a groan, filling Alex up with his name on repeat on his tongue. 

Alex remains in the crook of Miles’ neck for a moment, moaning and panting as he comes down. Miles feels similar, wrapping his arms around Alex to hold him close. “Fuck,” he mumbles, exhausted and relieved. Alex hums, kissing Miles’ neck then lips softly. He really is worn-out, after a long flight and now this, he feels as if he could sleep for weeks. “Come on, you,” he makes sure that Alex’s legs are wrapped around his waist before he picks him up and carries him to the bathroom where he rests him on the counter top and pulls out slowly. It resonates a soft whine from Alex who is truly spent. He makes sure to clean both of them up, drying off and patting down with a towel before carrying Alex back to bed. As soon as Miles tucks him into the warmth gently, he falls quickly into a deep sleep, which happens rarely with Alex.

Miles sighs, and looks at the man so at peace. He smiles, bursting with love. He too is exhausted, but decides to have a drink and clean up some more before going to bed. For example, the horrific state of the tub and surrounding areas. He slides on some underwear too before finally joining Alex in bliss. It’s dark out now, Miles realises as he wraps an arm around Alex’s waist and settles under the sheets. He notices how badly he wants to kiss him, talk to him all night long. But he knows that everything is just fine- which is the main thing. He’s beginning to trust Alex again, and he knows now that love is shown through actions and not words- tonight Alex showed him that in his intimacy. He breathes softly, kissing Alex’s neck carefully so as not to wake him. He knows now, as he shuts his eyes, that tonight is the beginning of forever. 


End file.
